


It Was Always Destined to Be (just you and me)

by kitausu



Series: Daemon Verse [1]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daemons, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitausu/pseuds/kitausu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ever heard of soul mates?"</p><p>Scott is Stiles' daemon, Isaac is Derek's.</p><p>So this is a His Dark Materials AU, but you don’t have to have read the trilogy to read this. Just know that a person’s daemon is part of their soul, and it is a HUGE deal for someone to touch another’s persons’s daemon and there you go. Hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Always Destined to Be (just you and me)

When he had been diagnosed with ADHD, it had come with a warning label. The doctor’s had told them in a very serious tone of voice that it was highly possible his daemon would not settle until almost his twenties. Some extreme cases never settled, but that was so rare he had told them not to worry too much. It was a show of how incredibly frustrating and contrary Stiles and Scott could be that they settled at the tender age of thirteen. And to be even more irritating, because Stiles entire existence rested on never fitting in ever, Scott settled as an albino wolf. He remembered walking into his seventh grade classroom feeling nervous and a little sick at how right this form felt to him. He remembered the way Lydia Martin had sniffed her nose and the way the teacher had asked him to please have his daemon shift to a smaller shape. But most importantly he remembered the way Scott’s hackles had risen and the way he had shouted at her and the entire class _This is his shape, get the fuck over it._ The trip to the principal’s office and the subsequent detention he remembered less so. Selective memory, only store the important stuff, whatever.

At first there had been whispers every time he entered a room. Children didn’t just settle that early for no reason. He had run to the bathroom and thrown up the entire contents of his stomach the first time the word _rape_ had been thrown around. Scott had pressed his chilled nose to the side of his cheek, letting Stiles breathe hard and fast into his fur as they tried to find their center and avoid a panic attack on the dirty tiled floor. There were multiple investigations, questions about whether his father had ever hit him, whether his father had ever _touched him inappropriately._ For weeks it had just gone on and on until he and Scott just stopped sleeping all together, the bruises turning dark and permanent looking under Stiles’ eyes, his focus deteriorating into nothing. Scott whined pitifully every time he did this, but sometimes in the darkest part of the night when everything was still and there was the possibility the sun would never come, he thought about ending it all. But every night the sun would rise and tuck the thoughts away to the corner of his mind. Then a week later, when even the daylight could not keep the tears at bay, Dr. Deaton arrived with his chocolate lab daemon close at his heels and a remedy.

He ran so many seemingly complicated tests, asked a lot of questions that neither Stiles nor Scott could find the reason for until three days later he walked into the living room at the Stilinski house hold holding a clean bill of health.

“It would seem your son has an impressively high IQ. While it is rare, it is not unheard of that children with high IQs settle early. There really is nothing to worry about Mr. Stilinski.” Dr. Deaton said, his lab Riza gentling rubbing her cheek against Scott’s in comfort as the realization hit.

All of the questioning had been for nothing, the poking, prodding, and _torture,_ had been for nothing at all. And for the first time in this entire process, for the first time since the first anniversary of his mother’s death, Stiles Stilinski and his daemon Scott had a panic attack.

On the flip side though, it was the last one as well.  So when Stiles woke gasping and clawing at Scott like he was air, he was honestly confused by what had brought the memories back into his dreams. It was several dizzying moments later that Stiles realized he was most definitely not in his bedroom. The mattress beneath him was ratty and torn, the walls around him were burned out, soaking the air in the scent of damp and rotting wood.

“Where the actual fuck are we?” Stiles gasped, turning to Scott in bewilderment to see his muzzle scrunched up in wolfy confusion.

“Dude, judging by the scent I would say the woods…and the only burnt out house in the woods is the old Hale House.” Scott replied, his nose tight to the ground as he started sniffing the edge of the room with vigor.

“But why would we be in the old Hale house? Last thing I remember we were looking for half a dead body in the woods and then…and then we ran into Derek freaking Hale, had a panic attack and promptly passed out. We are the biggest fucking losers in the world.” Stiles groaned, flopping back onto the mattress with an over dramatic huff as Scott continued searching for clues in the husk of a bedroom.

“Oh _shit.”_ Scott whined as he backed away from the door.

Stiles sat up fast, his head spinning wildly at the sudden movement combined with the thrill of panic spiking through him from Scott.

“Scott what are you…oh…hi there.” He found himself once again staring into the angry hazel eyes of one Derek Hale.

But on his honor as a genius he was not going to pass out this time. He would just need to think about something else like his abs sculpted by angels, where the fuck was this dude’s shirt?

“You’re awake.” In Stiles’ book, that wasn’t a question because no duh Sherlock he was awake, so no response for McGrumperson.

They sat in silence for a solid five minutes before he realized the Grumpmister over here was actually waiting for an answer. He looked over at Scott with a raised eyebrow and his patented _can you believe this guy_ expression only to find him not even paying attention. The weird thing was he looked transfixed by something standing behind Derek. His daemon most likely which was…well he couldn’t tell because abs-like-marble was standing in his way.

“Dude, move, I can’t see what your daemon is.” Stiles grumbled, tilting this way and that to get a better look only to have Derek block his view at every turn.

“Hey man, what is your problem? I just want to see your daemon not your penis!” and yup, he definitely said it, but since it was already out there not use taking it back now.

“You don’t need to see him.” And _him,_ same gender daemon, that was unusual.

No need to point out that Scott was the same gender too, they were built to be infuriating and different, it said so right there on their DNA.

“He’s a black timber wolf.” Derek looked murderous as he turned his glare on Scott, which okay, that was a big ass no-no.

“Dude, keep your murder eyes on me and off Scott. Got it?” Stiles snapped, mirroring Derek’s pose as he moved in front of Scott.

There was a rather lengthy pause as Derek’s daemon muttered something incomprehensible to Stiles before Derek was moving to reveal the wolf Scott had described.

“So what’s his name? Oh come on, I told you Scott’s name!” Stiles whined, and fuck when did he stop being scared as shit?

“Isaac, my name is Isaac.” The daemon peered up at him shyly, his crystal blue eyes flicking from Scott to Stiles every few seconds.

“Nice to meet you Isaac, I’m Stiles, that’s Scott.” Stiles smiled congenially as he gestured between him and his daemon.

“Scott is a stupid name for a daemon.” Isaac deadpanned.

Stiles spluttered, trying to work up a good argument, but the grumpiest spice girl actually started laughing. Sure, it was at his and Scott’s expense, but hey, maybe he wasn’t a serial killer after all. Stiles wasn’t really sure why laughter made him think Derek wasn’t a serial killer, wasn’t it a requirement that all serial killers have an evil laugh? Wait, he was getting distracted.

“Scott is a perfectly awesome name for a daemon. Can’t say much for Isaac though.” Stiles quipped into the silence, he wondered how long it had been silent before he tuned back in.

Welp, this was getting awkward.

“So…thanks and all for not leaving us out there after we passed out.”

“Fainted.” Wow, grumpy _and_ rude.

“Yeah, sure, that. But I guess it is time for Scott and I to be hitting the old dusty trail right about now.” Stiles stretched huge and fake, attempting to ignore the knot in his stomach as something unidentifiable crossed Derek’s face.

“Fine.” Derek growled and turned to leave.

Stiles thought it was a little abrupt but hey, they weren’t being murdered, so yay for them. He moved to follow behind when he was suddenly overcome by the sensation of a phantom touch on his cheek and his blood running hot. He turned frantically to Scott to find him frozen in surprise, Isaac’s nose running the length of his snout.

“Isaac!” Derek barked, his voice booming and sending a jolt through Stiles that had him moving instinctively towards his other half.

Isaac slipped past him, smoothly keeping a good space between the two to avoid an ever bigger travesty.

“I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over him. I’ll show you back to your Jeep.” Derek’s voice was gruff with suppressed emotion, so Stiles avoided pointing out that Isaac was _a part of him_ so on some level Derek had wanted that.

But that didn’t even really make sense because this was the first time Stiles had ever even met Derek. Why would Derek want to touch him, to have Isaac touch Scott. The whole thing made his head spin in a not so comfortable way. He chose instead to focus on putting one foot in front of the other down the rickety stairs. As promised Derek walked him to the edge of the forest where his jeep was parked, he even stayed to watch as the taillights disappeared around a corner in the setting sun.

Stiles fully expected that to be the last time he and Scott ever saw Derek Hale and Isaac. But oh ho ho was he wrong. It was like a fucking flood gate had opened. Stiles and Scott went to the grocery store and what do you know, so did Derek and Isaac. Stiles and Scott wanted to see the Avengers movie again at the theatre, Derek and Isaac were there too. Stiles and Scott went to the sheriff station to visit his dad, Derek and Isaac were outside just ‘taking a walk’ five miles from Derek’s house and nowhere near a walking trail. It was that last one which finally broke the metaphorical back of the camel.

He stood on the sidewalk, in full view of the office with his arms stretched wide as he shouted, “Are you stalking me?”

Perhaps not his best move, but it certainly got a reaction. Derek darted forward, grabbed his bicep in a vice like grip before yanking him into the alley way. He may have also slammed him against the wall, but Stiles was a little distracted by the ghost like feel of Isaac rubbing up against Scott’s flank.

“You are stalking me aren’t you.” He whispered, his voice choked with the emotional onslaught of another living creature touching Scott.

“I’m not, we’re not… _Isaac stop.”_ Derek gasped, his breath hot and moist against Stiles’ cheek as he tried to regain his composure.

“It’s okay if you are.” Derek pulled back, his expression incredulous.

“Don’t ask me to explain why, I guess I feel safe with a complete stranger watching my every move. At the very least I’m pretty sure you aren’t a murderer, so maybe you can protect me from actual murderers.” Derek just sighed, resigned as he pushed closer to Stiles, invading his personal space bubble to the max.

At least Isaac was no longer pressed against Scott, though the lack of worry from his daemon was possibly more alarming then actually feeling worry through their bond. The absence tipped Stiles off to the very important fact that Scott knew something Stiles did not.

“Tell me what is going on Derek.” Stiles demanded, refusing to break eye contact with the man in front of him.

And with their proximity Stiles really was becoming more aware with the fact that Derek was a man. A man with perfect abs, arms, face, and the sudden ability to make his jeans feel a hundred times too tight.

“Ever heard of soul mates?” Derek asked in this voice that was a little too much like someone discussing the weather, but it was a start.

Of course he had heard of soul mates, you learned about them in elementary school, then every year after. It was the very rare phenomena when someone’s daemon recognized a soul mate, or a mate, at first sight. It was practically unheard of, but it was known to happen.

“You can’t mean…” but his brain wouldn’t let him finish the sentence.

Because in some stupid crazy mixed up way it made complete sense. It would explain why he had felt comfortable instead of scared out of his mind when he had woken up to Derek after he passed out. It would even explain the panic attack, the shock to his system from finding his mate sending his entire body into overdrive. The way he could sense his body wanting to press closer, the way Scott was leaning towards Isaac without even being aware while the other wolf did the same.

He let his head flop back against the brick with thud, “This is my life.”

And Derek Hale, the grumpiest spice girl who ever grumped, gave him an honest to fuck smile.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He stated, and Stiles just nodded in dumb disbelief as Derek’s lips covered his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I just really liked this idea for some reason. I may add to this, I have not decided yet. 
> 
> xx


End file.
